


anxiety

by DanielOfGayfair



Category: Amnesia: The Dark Descent
Genre: Late Night Writing, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 04:21:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5276429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanielOfGayfair/pseuds/DanielOfGayfair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nobody deserves this, he thought. Nobody except me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	anxiety

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this after i woke up from a nightmare but didn't know if it was worth posting. nothing special, just rambling about Daniel's inner thoughts.

_Daniel._ He was awake.

He groaned at that simple, indisputable fact. He was indeed awake, not asleep like he had hoped he would be, and lay awake in solitude with nothing to comfort him but the sound of the grandfather clock in the hall below.

Weather he would go to sleep again or not was completely uncertain. Unsettingly so to the young man. He had absolutely no control of the thoughts his mind wandered to when he was consumed by the void and it terrified him. Enough that he would rather risk a sleepless, exhausting day than go through the torture his mind insisted on putting him through.

He began to contemplate his situation and his sanity as he often does, but realized it was useless as he never came to a satisfying conclusion, no matter how hard he thought. He twisted and turned in sleepless lethargy.

“My name..”

He wondered why he so frequently tried to comprehend his identity as of late. Of course his predicament was foreboding–more than foreboding, it was a disaster waiting to happen– _had_ happened–but lately he’d been having these feelings of..confusion. Thoughts he had never thought to think about before, like what makes him him. As well as the presentiment feeling that he’d soon forget them.

He reached to stretch. His body cracked and ached as it was attempting to break out of the little sleep it had. His hands were the only thing that remained clear in the dimly illuminated castle, the light from the moon providing an ample amount of light to see from the windows. _These hands are vulgar,_ he thought to himself. The hands of a self-righteous sinner, if not a cold blood murderer. He watched as his sleek, pale fingers spread apart from one another and bent to the center of his palms. How many lives had he taken with the use of his hands?

He became disgusted at the thought and at his very own anatomy. Swiftly reaching his hands under the covers he allowed a small sob to escape from his lips giving himself relief from his pent-up, pushed away thoughts. Weather this train ride was far from over or nearing its endgame, he knew he couldn’t take much more of it. He was slipping away into something deep and dark and falling into a place he would have never wished even the worst type of man upon. _Nobody deserves this,_ he thought. _Nobody except me._

He closed his eyes and let out a deep exhale. He tried to compose himself but he knew there was really no lie he could engrave into his brain to make himself feel any better.

As the grandfather clock below started to slowly drift out of his line of hearing and his mind began to go into the blank state before sleep, his thoughts drifted to a familiar feeling. A feeling that can only be best described as deja-vu, yet reverse deja-vu, as if something was happening that hadn’t yet happened. It rattled his brain and made him feel as if he was searching for himself, searching to find what makes him a human being in it’s vital essence, clinging to seemingly mundane thoughts as if they were being threatened to leave. Before his unknowing sleep overtook his body and mind alike, one simple statement was left echoing throughout his anxious mind and transitioned into his dreams.

_“Don’t forget. Some things mustn’t be forgotten…”_

\--


End file.
